


family is found

by kinneyb



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:41:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23054140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinneyb/pseuds/kinneyb
Summary: Jaskier has a strained relationship with his family. Geralt learns why.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 18
Kudos: 665





	family is found

**Author's Note:**

> twitter: queermight / tumblr: korrmin

Jaskier hadn’t seen his family in _years_ when he entered a banquet with Geralt at his heels and saw them, standing _right there_ , the whole lot of them—his father, his mother, and even his two brothers, both older. He froze, and Geralt obviously noticed, placing a hand on his back.

“Jaskier?” he asked with a trace of concern. “Are you okay?”

He didn’t know what to say. _Was_ he okay? His parents hadn’t been especially bad, not at first, but then Jaskier had grown up and declared, “ _I want to be a bard_!” Everything had changed after that. They were not for, lack of a better word, _supportive_.

His brothers, on the other hand, had always been terrible to him. They bullied him, ignored him, never included him in any of their activities, laughed at him when he used to say he wanted to be a bard. When Jaskier finally got old enough to do some odd jobs, he had saved up for a lute, a cheap one that didn’t even hold a flame to his current one but to him, at that age, it had been perfect.

His brothers had teamed up to break it, laughing when he cried, and his parents had simply shrugged, like Jaskier should’ve known better.

Geralt wrapped an arm around his shoulders, startling him out of his thought. “Come on,” he said, gruff and quiet. “We’re blocking the way.”

Jaskier nodded dumbly, letting Geralt walk them to a corner of the room. There was a bard playing near the front of the ballroom. His hands shook, and he stared at them, willing them to stop. They didn’t. Geralt grabbed them, surprising him.

“Something is wrong,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

Jaskier shrugged. “It’s—nothing,” he stammered, because it _wasn’t_. “It’s just—”

“ _Julian_.” He froze again. “Is that you?”

He looked up slowly. His mother was walking over, smiling brightly. His father and brothers trailed behind her, looking bored and unhappy. Jaskier’s heart squeezed, tight, in his chest. Geralt released his hands, but shuffled closer, their shoulders pressing together.

“You look wonderful,” she said, coming to a stop. She reached out and brushed hair out of his face. “Why haven’t you visited us? It’s been _years_.”

Jaskier opened his mouth, closed it. He searched for words. “Um, sorry,” he said eventually, lamely.

His father was watching him, an arm around his mother. He always looked so _disappointed_ in him. His brothers whispered to each other, snickering like they were still teenagers, picking on a young Jaskier. His hands were sticky with sweat.

“Are you still…” she started, eyes flickering to the lute on his back. “Ah, right.”

There was no missing the disapproval in her eyes. It was like looking in a mirror, his own eyes mirrored back at him, full of disapproval. Jaskier’s throat closed up. He focused on the comforting heat of Geralt’s body, pressed up against his own.

“Don’t you think it’s about time you give up on that silly hobby?” she continued when he didn’t say anything, smiling like she wasn’t breaking his heart. “We miss you back at home, Julian. You could come back, stay with us until you can find a _proper_ job—”

And that was it, his breaking point. He took a step back, legs shaky.

Geralt wrapped an arm around Jaskier’s shoulders, surprising him thoroughly. “He’s not feeling well,” Geralt said breezily. “Excuse us.” Without waiting for a reply, Geralt turned them around and walked them to the door.

Jaskier vaguely heard his mother shouting something, like “ _we’ll be waiting_ ”, but then the door closed and all he could hear was the muffled sound of instruments and chatter. Geralt led them away from the door, out of the flow of bodies streaming in and out from the banquet.

“Well,” Geralt said.

Jaskier almost laughed/sobbed. He wasn’t quite sure. “ _Well_ ,” he agreed for lack of a better word. He had thought he’d be over it; his family’s disapproval of his career—his entire life, really, but apparently he wasn’t. “Gods,” he said, scrubbing a hand down his face and forcing the tears back, “Don’t mind me. We should just—head back to the inn.”

He knew Geralt hadn’t even wanted to attend the banquet, anyway, he’d only been doing it for him.

He took one step and Geralt stopped him, grabbing his arm. Jaskier looked back at him, hoped his eyes weren’t as wet as they felt. “I—” Geralt cleared his throat and released his arm. “I didn’t know your family was… like _that_.”

Jaskier smiled, tight around the edges. “We all have fucked up families, right? It’s no big deal,” he lied through his teeth. He didn’t want Geralt’s pity—not for this, at least.

“Most humans do,” Geralt agreed, an odd quirk to his lips, “but that doesn’t mean you have to pretend like it doesn’t hurt.”

Jaskier blinked once, surprised. “That’s surprisingly deep,” he said, “especially for you.”

Geralt snorted. “I have my moments,” he drawled. He reached back out and wrapped an arm around Jaskier’s shoulders again. This time, Jaskier melted under the weight of his arm, allowing himself to be pulled under. His eyes burned with fresh tears again. “Does your family not know how successful you are?” he said, sounding insulted on his behalf. Jaskier found himself smiling, unable to stop. “Your songs are played in most taverns across the Continent.”

He laughed wetly and turned to bury his face in Geralt’s shoulder. “Thanks,” he whispered, meaning it.

Geralt shrugged, lightly jostling him. “It’s not an opinion,” he said. “It’s a fact. The public _loves_ your songs, Jaskier. Your family can’t take that from you.”

And somehow that was exactly what he needed to hear. He pulled back, eyes wet. “No,” he agreed quietly. “They can’t.” Geralt nodded curtly, the corners of his mouth quirking up. Jaskier smiled back. “Thanks, Geralt.” He sniffed. “You can be surprisingly sweet when you need to be, huh?”

Geralt snorted again, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Like I said, I have my moments.”

Jaskier nodded, biting the inside of his cheek. “Yeah,” he said, soft and honest. “You do.”


End file.
